


Burning Up

by hops



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: F/M, Fantasizing, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-22 10:26:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14306694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hops/pseuds/hops
Summary: (and getting off) (because some plant gunk made you horny)





	Burning Up

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I wrote sex pollen I guess, and I borrowed the setup for it from @epersonae's sex pollen fic, abt Merle keeping some questionable plants and other crew falling victim to their sexy pollen ways, and that getting off/sex makes the effects worse/last longer. I exclusively wrote this for porn so I just don't even feel like writing the narrative exposition for it. Dear reader, I know why ur here, and it's not for the technicalities of sex pollen lore.

You hear Lucretia’s voice through the door. Beneath the sheets, your legs shift slightly, and you can feel your cock getting harder against your thigh. It’s torture. You  _ know  _ you can’t indulge the impulse, but the plant has you feverish and hungry. Lucretia chuckles with Lup— and  _ oh, fuck, Lup, both of them, together—  _ and the sound shocks you straight through to your gut. And every inch of your body is just burning for her. 

And then the door cracks open and Lucretia walks into your bedroom. You think about how many times you’ve fucked her here, and how many different ways. How many nights did she cry out for you, clawing at your back, or wobbling on her feet, or grinding herself against your eager tongue?  Lust thrashes hard inside you and you curse Merle’s stupid plant experiment. You already spend enough time horny— this is just excessive. 

She sadly smiles and and you just  want to grab her face and devour her, suck her bottom lip swollen, drag your teeth downwards and listen for the lucious moan that comes from her. She must see how hungry you look, because she keeps her distance. You almost whine. Your cock strains under the blanket and you almost hope she can see, because then maybe she’ll take pity on you and just break the rules. Release would be worth some extra torture, you think, because this is unbearable. You want her so badly that it actually physically hurts. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” she says, and just the sound of her voice makes your cock twitch. Her expression softens. Your face is so hot, it must be burning red, and you can feel sweat beading on your forehead. “Just try to relax, okay? Try to sleep. I know it’s hard, but it’ll be done before you know it. 

It’s like a reflex. 

Your hips push upwards and you set your jaw, trying to play it cool. She frowns, still looking at you with pity. “Please, Luce—” you plead, and she shakes her head. You feel  _ dizzy  _ with it. “Please,  _ please,  _ just— just touch me, please.” 

She shakes her head again, but you see her chewing her lip for just a second. “I can’t.” 

“Please, baby, I need you,” you ramble. “Let me fuck you, please, I need to be inside you—” 

You push your hips up and feel the friction and weight of the blanket against your cock. Did her eyes flicker downwards for just half a moment? “I’m so hard for you, I can’t stop thinking about you, I’ll— I’ll do whatever you want. Let me taste you, please, Lucy, please, please—”

Her teeth catch her bottom lip now and—  _ yes, fuck—  _ you’re chipping away at her, you hope, anyway. She hesitantly places her cool hand on your forehead and heat, electric and white-hot, strikes straight through to your cock. You arc towards her, just hoping to get a little closer, every single inch of you pulling into orbit. You’re throbbing now, the blanket tented over your crotch. She withdraws her hand. 

“As soon as it’s over, we will, okay?” 

_ “No,”  _ you breathe. And a little louder, a whine that matches the desperate curve of your spine and the push of your hips, “No, no, baby, baby, I can’t wait that long—” 

“Try to sleep, and we’ll talk in the morning.”  

“I can’t, I need to—” You can’t even think in full sentences, never mind speak. “I just need to get off, and then I can sleep, please.” 

She bends forward and oh, gods, her eyes flutter closed and fuck, yes,  _ yes,  _ her breath fans across your open mouth and you feel like you could come just like this, floating there and burning up in her atmosphere. And then her lips press to yours and they feel like heaven. You’re dreaming, you must be; you’ve never felt this before, this feeling that rips through you and upheaves your body and your mind with relentless desire. You’re sweating beneath the sheets; you need her slender hand on your cock, just one touch and you could cum. 

Her lips are wet and hot against yours, and then they’re gone. And she’s taking a step away. Your vision nearly goes black for a moment as she does. You can’t take it, this is— this is way too much. You’re babbling more pleas but you can’t even hear yourself now, just the ceaseless reel of her moans and cries of nights past that you can’t stop remembering. 

“Relax, love,” you hear her say, and then she’s gone. And the room is empty and silent again, not even Lup outside the door, not even anything to distract you from your unstoppable need. You try to stop yourself. You cling to the sheets, white-knuckled, but you can’t  _ not  _ rock your hips against the blanket in the rhythm you would fuck her from below. 

Your tongue flicks over your bottom lip. You feel a trace of her lipstick there and the thought of it, the memory of her lingering so close to your mouth, practically begging for you to kiss her more. A souvenir of your want and her absence. You run your tongue over the lipstick and smudge it just a little. 

That’s really it for you. You give in and throw the blanket from your legs, bend your knees, grab your cock in your palm. You didn’t even know you could get this hard. You smear precum with your thumb and you think even that might drive you over the edge. You’re throbbing, mind racing, heart hammering, frantically flickering between memories of her and fantasies of her. Imagining her walking back into the room and coming to straddle you, slide her cunt down over you so you can fill her as deep as you can. Would you even be able to pull away? Would you cum all over her belly and her clit? 

You stroke your cock a little harder and you feel it building so quickly inside you. Her mouth on yours, her lipstick— and you taste it again on your mouth, her lipstick there, it’s so good, it’s so— and you moan aloud without a thought, and then again, louder still. You thrust upwards into your hand, cock throbbing as you do, and you’re so close, so close, still thinking about stretching her open and listening to her, or having her come crawl up onto the pillows so she can fuck your face while you stroke yourself to climax. 

And that’s it, you’re done, you can’t stop and you don’t want to. You cum all over your belly and chest, and you’re still cumming, imagining what it would feel like to moan like this into her cunt. You see stars, you’re shaking, hand still stroking, and your breath comes in jagged gasps. And as the fire blazing through you fades to smoldering embers, you finally take your hands away and lay there spent on your bed. Her lipstick is still on your mouth. 

Your stomach feels warm. Your heartbeat slows, and it’s a relief, relief for just a moment, though you know the relentless, unyielding arousal will come back soon. You close your eyes and think of her beside you, tucked beneath your arm, and try your best to sleep. 


End file.
